(Untitled)

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Somewhere in there, time passes.

Sickbay. A blur of drugs and nervous energy. Frantic explanations and calls in the middle of the night. Angels in the wall, on his bed. In his head. Reality wavers.

More time passes.

People don't bother listening to him. They don't bother to consider the possibility of the Nexus, of a route to Earth not played

Comments

[some_thing_]

It's almost, but not quite, coincidence that Ulysuss is wandering in the area, tall and lanky and self-contained, moving in that strange aimless-but-with-purpose way that hunters have. It grins when it sees the man, the smile friendly and confined to its proper mouth. "Hullo," says the right eye pleasantly.

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Gaius remembers the Thing clearly enough from the night before. Even if the enemy of his enemy should be his friend, he's definitely a little hesitant about this one. The lack of facial features might be a factor.

"Hello." He does his best to fake a smile, but hiding emotions is far from his forte. (Is his lip twitching? Maybe.) He keeps a healthy distance.

[some_thing_]

It doesn't, striding closer to him. "We met last night, didn't we? Guyus?"

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"Briefly," he says, shrugging his shoulders in an effort to look casual. Still, he takes a step back, hands fidgeting with his jacket. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's somewhere I need to be."

'Somewhere' meaning not in front of a being with frakking mouths instead of eyes. Honestly, he'll never get used to this place.

[some_thing_]

The Thing grins wider, all three smiles showing strong, white teeth. "Oh, somewhere? Somewhere safer somewhere better, with someone less frightening?"

A single step more puts it right in his path.

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The problem with the Thing not having any eyes is that Gaius doesn't know where to focus. Earlier, he had been keeping his gaze on its scalp. Now, however, when he realizes he needs to radiate confidence, stare it down, he isn't sure where he's supposed to look. Teeth? Teeth?

He fumbles.

"You don't frighten me," he says with all the contempt he can muster. "But if whatever you need tell me is actually important, I suppose I could be a few minutes late."

"I don't like this, Gaius," says the woman, slipping into the corner of his vision.

He keeps his eyes on the Thing.

[some_thing_]

"Hush," the left eye says to the woman, the Thing's head tipping towards her for just a moment. "We're not so much here to tell you something as to ask something of you."

And take it, if need be.

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No.

No, see, this isn't supposed to happen. This isn't how any of it's supposed to go. Gaius stares at the Thing, wide-eyed, hands gripping his jacket so hard his knuckles are white. He can feel the perspiration on his palms, fingers sticking together. His heart dances in his neck.

He's imagining this. He's dreaming again.

"You-- y-you... sorry-- you-- what?"

"Run," She says. "Run."

[some_thing_]

"May we?" it asks, its voice strangely level and civil as it lunges so suddenly for him, with a kick to trip him up and both hands going for his face.

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The kick connects, alright, and it does trip him up, but by then he's throwing his jacket at the Thing, desperate to get the hell out. It's a poor throw, especially since he's off-balance, but it's the only thing he can do. He needs to escape. This can't be happening.

(And then he thinks of Grey, rushing at him with a knife those three months ago, and he's determined to fight harder and harder.)

[some_thing_]

It's a poor throw, but enough to deflect its hands. One scrabbles at his cheek as he tries to get away, but they miss the all-important connection with his eyes.

"Do not struggle!"

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The hand scratches his cheek, but he hardly notices.

"Keep away from me!!"

Frantically, he throws a punch. He knows how to hold his fist so that he doesn't break his thumb, sure, but that's about it. He isn't a fighter. He's a scientist. He spent his school days locked indoors with a physics textbook while everyone else threw balls at each other.

[some_thing_]

The punch sinks into flesh obscenely soft, and the Thing laughs softly. Its arms elongate suddenly, unnaturally elastic as it grabs for him, tries to wrap him in them, pull him close against its chest.

"Oh, child. Shush," says the right eye, while the left licks its thin lips.

[instrument_of]

And he's grabbed and pulled in.

He tries to push away, vicious at first, and then weaker when he realizes there's no hope. It's over.

"Please," he says quietly. He tries to find its eyes again, but he can't, because there's nothing there, oh gods, there's nothing. "What d-do you... tell me what you want, please. W-What do you want from me?"

[some_thing_]

Get your fingers too close to what passes for its eyes, sir, and they'll be bitten. Snickersnap and a click of teeth.

"We're hungry. We want all those little scurries and voices that run you around in circles. We want that very lovely woman. What's her name?" it asks, voice almost gentle as its fingers wander over his face, brushing his hair away from his eyes before gently urging them shut, fingertips cool on his eyelids.

And fixed there, as if they'd grown from them.

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He jerks and pulls in its grip, but the fingers find his eyes anyway.

No.

No no no.

"Don't do this," he says, panic rising. "Please, I'm begging you. You have no idea how important this is."